


A Healing Bond

by Daedamnatus



Series: Dawn of Alliances [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Battle of Odessen, Family, Injury, Post-KotFE, Redemption, Reunion, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daedamnatus/pseuds/Daedamnatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[SPOILER WARNING]</p><p>Five years have gone by and Thexan has lived and joined the Alliance, helping to defeat the Eternal Emperor - his own brother.</p><p>After the Battle of Odessen, Senya brings Arcann to Manaan to treat his injuries. The twin brothers meet again...</p><p>[Slight AU: read Dawn of Alliances if you like this ficlet!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Healing Bond

 

 

The Fury sat on the docking platform of Ahto City when he flew by in the air speeder, taking note of the Commander’s presence before preparing himself for the encounter. His chest ached from the mad pounding of his heart.

 _Arcann is here_ , he told himself trying to better grasp the fact. _My brother is home._

He knew he wasn’t supposed to be speeding in the streets but the road to the hospital seemed to stretch for too long. The hand he had on the speed lever felt warm. He directed his eyes to meet the equally blue stare of his beloved as she comfortingly touched him.

Tayleen attempted a smile but her Force aura reflected his worry. She hadn’t had the time to apply her make up that night as they’d sprung out of bed at the news but that made no difference to him. Her orange-skinned lekku were tensing around her shoulders.

Then he spotted the wings of the Zakuulan shuttle. Senya - as he had directed her - had landed there. He would take care of the permissions and parking costs later. The hospital’s entrance was dead ahead and he stopped his vehicle near the sidewalk, relieved that no curious Selkath citizens had gathered to witness the arrival. He wore his usual dark clothing, he passed off as a civilian - an ordinary human male with no ties to the war. No stakes in the survival of the Emperor of Zakuul. He jogged through the opening doors and headed straight for the emergency admittance. The droid at the entrance knew his credentials and everyone on Manaan knew better than to cross the Deputy Minister of Sith Intelligence that followed. Tayleen was right behind him, eying the medical droid personnel to stay out of their way.

Senya was first to greet them before they could even see the recovery room. Thexan spoke no word and his heart filled with a grim relief as his mother was frowning sadly before he circled her in his embrace. She’d brought Arcann home and he was alive. That was all he wanted for now. He didn’t know, he had not the single thought about what he would do or feel when he would actually see him with his own eyes - when he would be in the presence of the one who had almost killed him. The one who had waged war across the galaxy to hunt down the Alliance.

Her bright eyes bore into his as she held his forearms.

“Please, Thexan,” she begged him, “he is very weakened.”

“I want to see him,” he heard himself whisper, feeling his throat tighten as he spoke. “I have to...”

For years he’d avoided mirrors, looking at his reflection was a daily chore. For five years he’d associated his own image as the symbol of shame and failure. He should have done everything to seek out his brother and at least try to bring him back sooner. Before all of _this_. Senya turned her cold, tired gaze upon Tayleen who stood behind him and she shook her head.

“This could be too much for him,” she bitterly told Thexan. “He could barely make it back alive, we should give him time.”

“She’s right,” said Tayleen’s soothing voice. “He is probably disoriented and in shock.”

There was nothing he could do or say to make things better. If anything, he had contributed to this situation and helped expedite these results. He recognized the sound of the footsteps and who they belonged to as he approached. Essan looked tired and even with shoulders slouching forward his height dwarfed the women present. He stopped in front of Thexan, and his mask lingered at Tayleen’s level before he spoke to him.

“I made sure no one knew where I was going,” the electrically processed voice said, “so rest assured, Arcann is safe.”

“But for how long...” Thexan pierced the room’s door with his eyes until they burned in their sockets. “Does he even want to be here?”

Shaking his hooded head, Essan propped his hand to his hips and sighed.

“There’s nowhere else for him right now,” Senya answered, on the verge of tears.

“Mother,” Thexan murmured, brow lowered and wishing he was alone with her at that instant. “If he isn’t willing to heal and redeem himself, we can’t do it for him.”

Her eyes hardened and she pressed a strong hand upon his chest. “But we will. You are my sons, and I won’t choose between the two of you. It’s bad enough that I had to leave without Vaylin...”

She interrupted herself and pressed a palm over her eyelids. Tayleen approached silently and held her arm to walk away and take a seat nearby. He watched, with his heart choking him with grief, as his mother was being comforted by the only non-Force user - the love of his life.

He didn’t know if he would ever see Vaylin again. However he’d thought the same of Arcann, until yesterday.

“There’s nothing we can do for her now,” Essan flatly remarked in the dead silence. He turned his faceless gaze towards Thexan. “Go see your brother.”

There was a time when the roles would have been reverted and he would have been the one giving the orders. That time was over, lost in a life he’d worked hard to cross out from his memory. He obeyed his Commander. It was comforting, not to be given a choice and to simply execute. It reminded him of simpler times...

This time he accepted that his strength would wash away as soon as he laid his eyes on the person tied to machines and being held down to the bed with a restrain on his right hand. Thexan froze in place, astounded that Senya would have let anyone do this to his son. Or perhaps was it Essan who issued that order? He swallowed and took a deep breath. He stepped towards the man whose top was dressed in bandages, whose face was his and it was scarred and veiled by a white kolto-infused patch. The blue fluid was of the highest concentration and it was glowing slightly.

Arcann was asleep. His chest heaved slowly and his single working eye was shut.

Thexan wanted to part his lips to speak but his jaw was locked. He wanted his brother would wake up fast enough before he’d break down and either sob or shout at him. He unclenched his fists with effort, fighting to take one step closer.

It was like looking in the past. There had been a time, aboard an Imperial Terminus flagship when he’d lied in a similar bed and was out of surgery for an injury much like Arcann’s. A lightsaber slash across the abdomen. Five years had gone by since that day, and he pressed his hand over his own belly, feeling the burn as if it had happened that morning. The Force sometimes sharpened his memory to the point of disservice.

The similarities were old and familiar, comforting in their own ways as his mind slowly drifted back to a state of nostalgic melancholy. He watched passively as his brother was asleep, weak, injured and having come so close to dying.

The irony didn’t even phase his guilt. Thexan breathed in, feeling electric ants climbing up his cold hands.

“I’m sorry.”

He should have stopped this insanity. He should have rushed straight towards Zakuul, walked up the last level of the Spire and face his brother.

He would have changed everything - the war, the fate of the galaxy.

They would have been together again, brothers leading the Eternal Empire for the greater good.

Instead, he let five years - five, long years - go by as he progressively receded into a docile mental state, gone into hiding and helping a woman raise her children while he worked covertly to topple Arcann’s reign.

He had even trained the Alliance fighters. He had taught Essan every combat technique that was ingrained into him since his four years of age.

Now he watched his brother lying bloody in a defenseless state, in a world that wanted him dead and among people who wanted nothing to do with him. Only their mother supported them.

And Tayleen...

Thexan sighed and rubbed his palms over his moist eyes. Tayleen had been so patient with him. Asking her to spare more of her tolerance and kindness for Arcann felt like a stretch.

How long had he been standing there, doing nothing? He thought of her and his feet itched to walk out and take her in his arms. She would know why.

But movement caught his attention he reluctantly looked down. Arcann’s eye fluttered open.

It squinted as he winced and looked right at him. Thexan felt a void form inside his chest. The last he had looked at him...

“Thexan...”

The raspy voice was faint but unfiltered by any mask. Without the artificial modifiers, he recognized the true voice of his brother. Thexan took a shaky breath before moving close enough that he could smell the disinfectant from the wound dressing. There wasn’t a trace of grime or sweat on him, having been cleaned and bathed in regenerative fluid. Somehow, noting those details helped him stay grounded. He needed to be certain that his brother would live. It was the only thing that mattered, and not-

“I knew I would find you,” continued Arcann.

His tone was too weak to convey any emotion other than pain. His clear eye had taken on a strange yellowish shade over his normal blue iris.

Thexan chewed his gum, hoping to feel a pain that would tear him from his debilitating shame. He startled when Arcann yanked at his restrains, clenching his fist with whatever strength he still had.

It was a deeply honed reflex. Thexan gave it no thought when he placed his hand inside his brother’s and touched his shoulder.

_What have I let you become?_

Tears brimmed inside Arcann’s eyelids as he looked up, breathing hard and calming down.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, louder this time.

“I waited for you,” groaned his brother. “For five years, I kept my suspicions silent.”

He violently coughed and Thexan couldn’t retain his own emotions. He pressed upon his shoulder and persisted in facing him.

“I couldn’t come back,” he sorely replied. “I betrayed you. I betrayed our family and Zakuul.”

Against his expectations, Arcann seemed to soften his gaze but his hand was still closed into a tight fist. Throat dry and lips cracked, he achingly whispered.

“I betrayed us first.” He slowly raised his head and turned his neck to observe his surroundings before laying back on the pillow again. Thexan took a step back, giving him space. “You look well.”

The abrupt change of tone and consideration made his face crunch up and he couldn’t retain a sob. He squeezed tears out of his eyes and pinched his lips. Arcann watched Thexan with something that was far from pity.

When his vision cleared and he calmed his shudders, he watched Arcann blink and sigh. He summoned his courage and finally spoke up.

“We’ll take care of you. Whatever it takes, Arcann... you will live.”

Arcann. Saying his name cemented the return of his brother. He wanted to celebrate this reunion, to embrace him and fully express his love for this long lost friend. Arcann, the twin he was devoted to and whose loyalty knew no bounds. But after five years of observing his handiwork, the way he lead the Eternal Fleet had failed to maintain his memory alive. Even from a time when they were young, that Arcann seemed to have faded away.

No, the Arcann he wanted back in his life needed to be reborn, somehow.

He laid silent and his eye fixed the ceiling. And when he spoke again, his voice was deep, almost guttural.

Thexan’s skin turned to ice.

“I will have my revenge, brother.”

 


End file.
